Not Dead, Not Alive- Yet
by FreakingOutAlways
Summary: In Harry's fifth year, he's falling apart. His destiny is crushing him. There can be no way out. Except for a birthday wish. . . She's not alive she's not dead and she's not going to leave Harry alone. They're in this together with Ron and Hermione bringing up the rear.


**First Harry Potter Fanfic. Enjoy it, review it, or favourite it. Or follow it. Give me a sign! It has been edited, drastically just so you know.**

It was an ordinary house on an ordinary house on an ordinary street. The lights were out, even the normally shining bulb in the porch. An expensive looking silver car was standing alone, polished to a high shine with not just soap and water, but evidently with wax as well. There was a small, but meticulously tidy garden, with another of pretty flowers growing in harmony, guarded with a white picket fence.

If the passers-by had known this was done by manual labour, it might not have looked so lovely in their eyes.

The manual labourer himself was lying in pitch blackness in his tiny room, on his uncomfortable bed. But hey, beats the spider infested cupboard under the stairs. Harry Potter was awake. He was also thirsty. But, as was a teen-agers habit, he simply could not summon the energy to wake up, proceed all the way down to the kitchen and get it. He was just too tired, yet sleep continued to evade him. Silently, he rolled over, trying to her onto a comfortable position on the lumpy mattress. It didn't work. Too many thoughts rushed through his mind. The springs digging into his ribs wasn't helping.

_Neither can live while the other survives. . . _

_He has a power the dark lord knows not. . . _

_Sirius Black, his godfather, falling back into the foggy grey mist of a creepy stone veil, disappearing in a flash of evil green light and a cackle of laughter._

Harry sat up bolt right, so fast that he felt the world spin its true speed, pressing a fist to his blood shot green eyes in a vain attempt to rid himself of the terrible fatigue he was subjected to. That was one of the worst nightmares. The nightmares that made it near impossible to drift off to the land of nod. The only rest he got was when he passed out with sheer exhaustion after staring unblinkingly at nothing for several days straight.

Surprisingly, it had taken a while before the reality of Sirius' fate truly sank in. Before it did, he was like a robot, answering yes or no to any questions regardless of what was asked and did everything he was told to do something that both shocked, and pleased the Dursleys and had taken advantage of his mindless obedience by ordering him to clean the house so thoroughly, it could surely be seen as a beacon in space. He even looked like a zombie, with his grey skin and unfocused eyes. Then, he broke. He sobbed and he cursed, and all the cutlery flew about the house in a rage and grief induced frenzy, scaring his relatives so much, the actually fled the house and came home two days later. Those two days, Harry spent screaming into his pillow. The last time he had gotton angry, truly angry; he had blown up his not quite an Aunt Marge, and sent her floating up to space. That was nothing compared to how he felt now. One small, wrong word and Harry felt quite capable of blowing Number 4 Privet Drive to kingdom come. He had been sorely tempted once or twice, but Hedwig, that gorgeous white owl, had nipped him sharply on the ear every instance he had thought so.

Harry sighed, and walked over to his mirror, a dusty and cracked slab of glass, (courtesy of Dudley, who had thrown a book at it when he saw his ugly face leering back out at him) smacked on the wardrobe door. He looked into it. A young man with shaggy black hair, (that infuriating lightning bolt scar peeking out beneath the spiky fringe) sharp chiselled features, round glasses and shadow like bruises beneath his eyes, stared back at him mournfully.

With nothing better to do, Harry threw himself back onto his bed, wincing as the springs audibly creaked, and through the thin walls he heard his Uncle Vernon snort and snuffle in his slumber. Harry glanced at the digital clock on his bedside table. The red numbers blinked at them in the rapidly lightening darkness, 29th July 11:59. Was it that time of year already? Sweet Sixteen. The concept left a sour taste in Harry's mouth. Most of his Birthday's had not so much been celebrations, but a day of depression in the Dursly's household. Before Hogwarts, he never received any presents or Birthday cake, or any food at all in fact; his Aunt and Uncle would rather celebrate his date of death than life. At the rate things were going, that time may not be too far from now. It was after all, a day closer to the day when Harry would have to face down Voldermort, but he wasn't sure how much else, _who _else he would have to lose before that time came.

The numbers flickered again. Harry saw them at the edge of his vision, flashing to 00:00. As he had every year before the day that Hagrid smashed down the door to that wretched cabin, Harry smiled grimly and muttered 'Happy Birthday to me. Make a wish' and inside his head, he thought about everything he had been through, facing his arch enemy, the basilisk, watching Cedric die, having people mutter untrue rumours of murder and treachery behind his back, being effectively tortured by Umbridge. Absently, he clenched his fist. He loved his best friends but they couldn't understand. No-one could.

'I need someone to understand' he whispered.

Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. First off, there was a flash of white-blue light that made Harry's world lurch and sway before completely disappearing, nevertheless, he managed to whip his wand out of his pocket with his right hand, and grabbing a lamp with his left, yanking it out of his socket and raising it above his head, getting ready to strike. Hedwig gave an almighty screech of alarm that pierced his skull painfully and flapped her wings in anxiety. And when the light eventually faded, a girl, probably nine-teen or twenty years old was left in its place.

Harry gaped, his jaw slack as the girl looked down at herself as if she couldn't quite believe she was there. She even brought one of her hands to her face for closer inspection, brow furrowed as she apparently tried to determine if it was there or not.

'Holy crap' she murmured .

'Looks like I can't call in dead after all. It's too bad, I used up all my sick days'

Then she looked up, frowning. Then her face evened out as she gazed at Harry, with something like heartbreak, before a sad smile tugged at her mouth.

'You should use a candle next time' she said casually, 'It works loads better, and it looks awesome. Red smoke, green sparks, the whole bit.'

'What the HELL!' Harry exploded. He literally did, the pitcher of water by his bed exploded into a thousand or something shards, coating in the floor with several deadly, razor sharp, miniature knives. She looked at him impassively, obviously unimpressed with his outburst.

'Oi! Don't give me your attitude I've got my own'

She strode up to the bed, and flumped down onto it, stroking Hedwig, who had fluttered onto her chest absentmindedly with one spider ring adorned finger. It wasn't until she flung her red doc martins up in the air that he realized. None of the shards, so dangerously scattered across the carpet, had pierced them.

'All right' he let out a deep calming sigh, like he was doing yoga. Not that he wanted to do Yoga, it looked more painful than the Crutiatus curse.

'Lets' start with who are you and what are you doing here. So who are you and what are you doing here?'

She looked at him, eyes previously lit with mischief and humour dulled to wariness and sombrely.

'How are things here Harry?' she enquired softly, not breaking eye contact.

Harry looked at her as if she must be joking, even daring to ask what the situation was. 'Oh, things are just jolly well splendid' he snarled. 'People I know are being struck down, tortured and killed every day of the week while I dream about it and then read it about it in the paper. Elsewhere, muggles are being terrorized and have no clue just how much danger they are in and not having the slightest inkling of how to stop it, and I am stuck in this room, in this house and not able to do one little thing to help!'

If the girl was taken aback by Harry's fuelled rant, she didn't show it, a serious frown marring her forehead as she nodded slightly, apparently confirming her worst suspicions.

'What do you know of Fate and Destiny Harry?' she asked abruptly watching his face carefully as he instantly frowned and didn't waste any time in responding. 'They are a pain in my arse' he said bluntly, causing the stranger to laugh pleasantly.

'I wouldn't suggest telling them that to their faces' she chuckled.

Harry looked at her, mouth wide open. 'You mean they're. . .'

'Very real and very powerful. They keep the world in balance, everything running smoothly deciding the when and the how. Except someone has arrived that has set their duty in jeopardy.'

Harry looked confused for only a moment before everything became clear. 'You mean- Voldermort?'

She nodded, shiny blonde hair bouncing with the movement. 'It wasn't supposed to be like this you know. Voldermort, known then as Tom Riddle, was supposed to revolutionize the world, not become its biggest terrorist. Trouble was, they decided to _tell_ him that'

'Let me guess' Harry said, moving to sit next to her. 'He took it as a sign as to purge the world of anything and everything that he thought was beneath him'

'Correct. He took Fate and Destiny's blessing and backhanded them in the face. Thousands of lives planned out perfectly put down to a swift end. Now they have decided things have gone too far and Revenge and Karma are with them all the way. You've been marked by Voldermort and you've heard Destiny's prophecy. Which is why I am here. Can you guess why?'

Harry looked at the girl's face only a couple of years older than his own, so strangely familiar and guessed softly. 'You were one of the souls that he wronged'

She smiled. 'You're good Harry, really good. I was never supposed to happen, and you were never supposed to lose your parents. 'My name is Tiger. I'm not alive, I'm not dead and for the past ten years I've been bobbing about limbo with no idea of how I got there. We make a right pair. Who else to help you on your quest?'

'My quest' Harry said bitterly.

That was too much. He so fed up, way too fed up, of having his whole life laid out in front of him. He couldn't deal with it, couldn't they see? Was going to his death to prove his point?

'I'm a kid! I'm six-teen and they expect me to walk up to the guy and blow his head off? 'You really expect me to believe that?'

Tiger frowned and sat back slightly. 'I've got to say, that never really entered my mind. But then again, when every little girl wanted to be a princess, I wanted to be a vampire. If a spooky crazy girl popped up in my room and said she was dead but still alive and I was destined to kill a homicidal maniac , I would be ecstatic. However I was a weird kid'

Harry huffed out a laugh. ' I was never a child Tiger' He whispered. 'I've never known anything _but _this. And before I did, there was the Dursleys. If it weren't from my friends, I don't know what I would do'

She nodded sympathetically, sitting down on the bed next to him. She let out a breath, the sound whistling through her teeth.

'Good lord you just cannot get a break can you, Harry? From the age of eleven, you were stuck fighting this madman, who desperately wanted your head on a spike, your various escapades including a brush with a basilisk, being entered into a tournament which is highly dangerous and illegal, at the end of which, you were captured, saw a friend of yours die and your blood was used to bring this bastard back, where he proceeded to torture you within an inch of your life until you escaped. Then, when you get attacked by Dementers, you are pulled up in front of the entire magical court, to face trial because you nearly had your soul sucked out the head of which is the buffoon of a so called minster for magic, Cornelius Fudge for brains, who has convinced the world that you are a conniving, lying scoundrel, and you are so very near breaking point, you might very well go tearing about Hogwarts with a machine gun laughing like a psychopath-'

'Where are you getting this from?' Harry burst out, aghast. Tiger was making it sound as if the entire world were chasing after him with fiery pitchforks and calling for his head. 'It wasn't that bad, seriously, I still had my friends and-'

'Harry,' Tiger interrupted sternly, facing him with her hands on hips and a 'Don't you even try, I'm allergic to bullshit' expression on her face, '_What_ is that on your hand?'

He made the mistake of looking. This gave Tiger the opportunity to race towards him and grab his hand in her significantly smaller, colder one and trace the wretched message with long, pale fingers, 'I must not tell lies'

It made him shiver.

'I assume that this is the work of your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor last year' she asked, coldly, her eyes wide with sheer disbelief at the magnitude of cruelty and hate that Dolores Jane Umbridge had wreaked upon the war-torn six-teen year old before her.

She sighed and took a step back, resuming her pacing once again.

'So this toad etches words into your fist with a blood quill, which is an extremely illegal item, makes your life miserable, and is fully prepared to use the Cruciatus curse on you and would have if your lovely and beautifully clever friend, Hermione is it, hadn't cleverly led her into a trap that henceforth got her captured by enraged centaurs that she insulted. Meanwhile, you and your band of comrades make your way to the ministry of magic to save your godfather'

Tiger softened her tone at this part. Up until this point, she had been rather sarcastic, her own little way of expressing her strong distaste and dislike of certain people or events. But when it came to death. . . Well, she saw the look on Harry's face. His godfather was all he had left. Somehow, Tiger had a gut feeling that once, in the life back when she had been truly alive, she knew that sensation all too well. And it had destroyed her.

'You know the rest of the story' Harry choked. He had turned his head away, unaware she could see his reflection in the glass of his window. It was strange, not being able to see hers alongside him. 'I've lived through it. If you wouldn't mind, I'd rather not do it all over again

Tiger smiled at her newly found young friend, and hesitantly reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, a look of absolute shock coming over her face when she came to the realization that she could. It must have had something to do with her being his magic guardian. It would be a bit pointless if she couldn't haul his butt out of the way.

'If it makes you feel any better, you must have pissed him off beyond belief! Forget being the Boy Who Lived, you're the Boy Who Won't Bloody Die!'

That got a smile out of him.

'Look, Harry, I don't know who I am. I know my name but that's all I am. I can't even be seen by human eyes, I can't be touched, I can't be known. But one thing I can do? I can help you.'

The sight of Harry's eyes brightening, only spurred on her claims.

'Because I understand, I do! Somehow I think I know how it feels to be thought of as crazy and I lost people and in the end it killed me! I don't know how or why and I don't want to. But you're going to get through this, and we're going to blast Voldywarts to hell, you see if we don't!'

'Why do I trust you?'

Because it was true, he really did. Something about this strange girl made him want to tell her. About how he truly felt about Sirius dying, ensuring Voldermort's demise, The treachery of the man he thought of as a grandfather.

Tiger smiled. It made her familiar hazel sparkle.

'I've been told I have one of those faces'

'Now, your training begins. Let's get started. Grab hold of my arm'

Harry did so. 'Dare I ask, where are we going?'

'Shopping. If you're going to be a war hero, defeating the Lord of Darkness, you are going to look like one'

There was a pop, a crack and the room was empty, leaving a disgruntled Hedwig alone.

_From an unknown realm, four women stood, watched, listened and approved. _

'_I told you so' said one, the smugness on her face, although hidden in her hood, was clearly palpable in her voice. _

'_Pride is a sin, sister' snarled another, her tone disgruntles and displeased. 'I never said it would not work, only that there were several possible alternative I do not set the future in stone, I merely lay down the paths.'_

'_You should have trusted my judgement Destiny' said the one that had already spoken, her tones soft. _

'_There is no time for this.' A women, the shortest of the group whose cape was dark green was the one who had spoken _

'_The girl does not truly know what events transpired that ended with her in the space between spaces. This could end in disaster. Revenge must be allowed to take action'_

'_Patience Karma' said the aforementioned. 'I am in no hurry. You part will come to play soon enough. For now, I think it is time for the Ministry of Magic to be a true justice system once again'_

_The first entity jerked her head sharply._

'_This is out of line. We have become too involved in the affairs of mortals. We have already done our part'_

'_Incorrect. We have not done our part until the world we have built is aligned and at peace once more.'_

**So, what do you think? Let me know!**


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